


Dreams To Be Daring For

by allonsy_gabriel



Series: Dreams To Be Daring For [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Attempt at Humor, Christmas Fluff, Disney World & Disneyland, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Getting Together, I Am Not The Boys, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Is this even funny?, Kid Fic, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Parenthood, Ryan Is Trying SO Hard, Shane is a Mess, Unrequited Crush, Whoa Babies Are Hard, Will Cause Cavities, but he's doing his best, but i tried, look - Freeform, yes its may yes i dont care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-02-29 21:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: On May 11, 2018, Eleanora Rose Austin was born in Chicago, Illinois.On May 20, 2018, Shane Alexander Madej agreed to act as the godfather to his best friend from college's daughter.On October 26, 2018, Olivia and Michael Austin were victims of a mugging gone sideways.On October 29, 2018, Shane Madej found himself in the possession of one real, actual, human child.





	1. Baby, I'm Still Filled With Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [i think i'm still turning out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13745073) by [the_tenerife_sea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_tenerife_sea/pseuds/the_tenerife_sea). 
  * Inspired by [Por Favor, Sweetheart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13826781) by [carrieonfighting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrieonfighting/pseuds/carrieonfighting). 



> hey my dudes  
> this is my first fic in this fandom, and i'm still working on mastering the boys' characters, so be patient and be kind  
> also the pacing may seem a little weird but bear with me, okay? it'll all work out, pinky swear.
> 
>  
> 
> also also actually actually, this whole fic has a playlist! i recommend listening to Jenny Rebecca (it's a choral piece but it sets the Tone), Sloane's Song by Macklemore, Slow Up by Jacob Banks, and Dear Theodosia from Hamilton!

On May 11, 2018, Eleanora Rose Austin was born in Chicago, Illinois.

On May 20, 2018, Shane Alexander Madej agreed to act as the godfather to his best friend from college's daughter.

On October 26, 2018, Olivia and Michael Austin were victims of a mugging gone sideways.

On October 29, 2018, Shane Madej found himself in the possession of one real, actual, human child.

The flight to Chicago was nerve-racking. Shane couldn't ever remember being more anxious about returning home, and yet there he was, on the verge of breaking down as the plane landed at O'Hare International airport.

He was going to be a fucking _dad_.

What the _fuck_?

His mind was racing as he paced outside the social services building where he was meeting with Eleanora's caseworker. He was going to have a _kid_. There were going to be diapers to change, baths to give, lunches to pack, tears to wipe away, scraped knees to bandage, prom dresses to buy.

A little girl was going to take her first steps in the same apartment where Shane had played _Red Dead Redemption II_ for nine hours straight while eating nothing but pizza rolls and Hint-of-Lime Tostitos.

The thought almost made him rip his hair out.

He was going to fuck this up. There was _no way_ he _wasn't_ going to fuck this up. What the hell was he thinking? Him, with a kid?! He could barely handle his _cat_ , nevertheless an entire human _child--_

“Mr. Madej?” a voice called, and a woman with dirty blonde hair and a light blue blouse stepped into the waiting area, a stack of papers in her hand. “If you don't mind following me, I can take you back and we can get this started.”

Shane tried to hide the way his hands shook as he stood.

The tie around his neck felt suffocating, but he didn’t dare touch it.

He’d worn a suit, figuring it was probably best to look nice the first time you met the child who was technically going to be yours for the rest of your life.

Then again, Eleanora was six months old, so she probably didn’t care.

The woman led Shane down the hall into a room painted in a soothing lavender color. In the room was another woman, this one in a grey pantsuit, who was holding a baby carrier.

God. This was it.

“Mr. Madej, I assume?” Pantsuit Lady said, placing the carrier on the couch.

Shane caught a glimpse of curly brown hair from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Most people just call me Shane, though.”

“Well, Shane, my name is Marilyn Davis, I’m Eleanora’s caseworker. If you’ll have a seat, there are a few questions I have to ask you before I can get you the paperwork to sign,” the woman said, gesturing to the other side of the couch where Eleanora had been sat.

She was still so _tiny_.

Shane didn’t pretend to be an expert on baby growth, but he was pretty sure that they were supposed to get at least a _little_ bigger after being alive for six months.

She was asleep, her eyes closed and half her fist in her mouth, covered in slobber.

“You’ve met Eleanora before?” Marilyn asked, shaking Shane from his stupor.

“Um, yes,” he replied. “I came and visited after Michael asked me to be her godfather.”

“And how did you know Mr. Austin?”

“We, uh, we were roommates in college. I was actually the one who introduced him and Olivia, and I was the best man at their wedding,” Shane answered. It was weird, speaking about Michael and Olivia in the past tense. Shane was horrified to feel something like a knot well up in his throat.

“Alright then,” Marilyn continued. “It says in the information you provided that you're a video producer at Buzzfeed. Is this position stable?”

“Is anything stable in this economy?” Shane tried to joke.

Marilyn didn't laugh.

“It's stable,” Shane rushed to say. “I've got benefits, too. Health insurance, a 401k, paid family leave--”

“And are you planning on taking that leave?”

“Yeah, of course,” Shane replied. “I--I've got the twelve weeks paid, and if we still needed time to settle after that, I've got sick days and vacation days that I'd been saving up.”

“It also says you travel for work,” Marilyn stated, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” Shane said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’ve talked to my supervisors, and they’re fine with me not going on location as much in the future, at least not until Eleanora is old enough to stay with a sitter overnight.”

He’d actually expected Ryan to throw a fit about that, but his best friend had been nothing but understanding about the whole thing. “You can’t go ghoul hunting with a baby, dude,” he’d said. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll do stuff at the desk.”

“But won’t our views--”

“ _Don’t worry about it_ ,” Ryan had insisted. “Trust me.”

Shane had. Shane did.

Marilyn continued her little inquisition (Did he have any pets? Was Obi trained? Where did he live? What sort of condition was his apartment in? Was there a reference that could be contacted to back up his claims?) for what felt like hours, until she finally got to what seemed to be the final question.

“While it’s not necessary that you answer, I do have to ask whether or not you are pursuing a romantic relationship at this time, or if you see yourself pursuing one at any point in the future,” she stated evenly.

Shane just about choked on his tongue.

“I, uh, I’m single,” he said. He and Sara had parted ways as friends, having agreed that they worked better that way. “And…”

His mind wandered over to Ryan, to the way they seemed to be getting closer every day, to the way the man’s smile seemed to light Shane up from the inside.

He pushed the thought away. He didn’t have _time_ for a stupid, childish, unrequited crush.

“I can’t say I won’t _ever_ try and find someone, but I can say it’s not exactly top priority right now,” he finished.

Finally, _finally_ , Marilyn handed Shane a stack of papers, the bullet points he needed to sign already highlighted.

As he picked up a pen, a quote from Abraham Lincoln crossed his mind.

_If my hand trembles when I sign the Proclamation, all who examine the document hereafter will say, “He hesitated.”_

With that in mind, he held the pen as firm as he dared, and signed each dotted line as steadily as he could.

 

Shane didn’t know what he was expecting to happen as he dotted the ‘j’ of his last name on that final signature. A shock of lightning, a crash of thunder, a booming voice endowing him with _Irrefutable Dad Instincts_.

Nope.

Instead, Marilyn took the papers, helped him pick up Eleanora’s carrier and the diaper bag that was sitting behind her desk, and ushered him out of the building.

It was sort of anti-climatic, honestly.

He called an Uber to take them to his parents' house and fidgeted the whole way, afraid Eleanora would wake up and start crying.

She didn't.

They spent the night at the Ol’ Madej Stomping Grounds, Shane squished into his old bed and Eleanora next to him in an old playpen his mom had dug out of the attic.

(God bless Sherry Madej and her inability to throw away anything ever.)

The next morning was a somber affair as Shane struggled to dress himself and the baby for the funeral.

Eleanora seemed to know something was wrong and cried through the whole affair, her bright blue eyes squeezed shut and her face bright red as she wailed through the service.

But the worst part was how people kept saying Shane was so noble, so brave, so _good_ , as if he wasn't floundering and terrified.

He felt like Ryan in the Sallie House, on edge and anxious, like things could blow up at any moment.

The flight back to LA was torture. Shane split the four and a half hour flight between is seat and the restroom, little Eleanora in his arms as she continued to bawl her little eyes out.

“Shhhh, shhhhh, you're alright,” Shane cooed, bouncing the kid in his arms as he ducked into the bathroom for the fifth time. He clumsily checked her diaper again, to no avail. He hadn't been allowed to bring her bottle aboard the plane, and he had no _idea_ what he was doing.

God, he was a _terrible_ dad.

They touched down at LAX at 9 PM, and Shane had barely taken his phone off of airplane mode before it started blowing up, buzzing away with what seemed like a million notifications.

Shane sighed and hoisted Eleanora up higher on his hip before flipping to the first one.

A message from Ryan.

_text me when your flight gets in_

_ive got jakes girlfriends sisters car seat in the back and im ready to meet baby long legs_

Shane huffed and rolled his eyes.

**here. may take a minute to get all the stuff from baggage. see you soon.**

Thankfully, Eleanora seemed to have moved past her inconsolable sobbing and was now occupying her time by tugging at Shane's hair.

“Hey, okay, alright, _ow,”_ Shane grumbled, trying to remove her little meatball fists from his head.

Eleanora only giggled and pulled harder.

“Ow, shi--shoot, Jesus,” Shane said. “That's--that's enough, time to let go now--”

His phone started ringing.

Shane bit his tongue to keep from swearing. “Yeah?” he asked as he answered the call, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

“ _Dude, do you need help? I can park and come, like, grab bags if you need me to,”_ Ryan stated.

“I'm, uh, I'm good,” Shane replied, wincing as Eleanora pulled again, harder. “Just… Just a sec-- _Jesus Christ,_ kid, would you _cut that out_?”

“ _Shane? Are you okay, man_?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah, I'm just--just dandy. Just hold on a minute, we'll be right out,” Shane insisted.

“ _Shane. Meet me at the baggage claim, and don't get murked by the baby, okay?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Shane relented. “See you in a second.”

Ryan hung up with a _click_.

 

By the time he reached them at the baggage claim, Shane had given up on freeing his hair from Eleanora's grasp. He was going to live the rest of his days with a baby clinging to his head, and that was fine. That was his life now. He'd accepted it.

“Dude,” Ryan said, covering his mouth to stifle a laugh. “You… you doing okay there?”

“At least she's not crying,” Shane deadpanned.

“Two days, and you're already burnt out,” Ryan quipped.

“Hardy har. You gonna grab something, or are those biceps just for show?”

Ryan had the good sense to turn his laugh into a cough as he slung Eleanora's bag over his shoulder and grabbed Shane's suitcase.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” Shane stated, shifting Eleanora's position on his hip.

“No problem, man,” Ryan replied. “Gotta stake my claim as the favorite uncle early. Isn't that right, Nora? Uncle Ryan is your favorite, isn't he?”

He leaned in and poked the baby's stomach, his eyes lighting up as she giggled.

“Stop sucking up to my kid, Bergara,” Shane said dryly.

“Your daddy's a grouch, isn't he, sweetheart?”

“Don't--don't call me her _daddy_ , that's… weird,” Shane said, scrunching up his nose.

“If you say so, man,” Ryan said. “C'mon, let's get you two home, you look like a light breeze could knock you over.”

“You always say the nicest things.”

“All part of the Bergara charm, big guy,” Ryan stated, smiling over his shoulder as he led the two of them out to his car.

***

There was a hand-me-down crib in Shane's bedroom and a second-hand high chair at his dinner table. Four boxes of diapers sat next to his dresser, and a pile of thrifted baby clothes were folded up in his closet.

A six-month-old baby girl, with her mother's dark brown hair and her father's pale blue eyes, woke Shane up with her cries.

“Shhh, shhh,” Shane cooed, “You’re alright, kiddo. You don’t--you don’t have to cry, you’re okay.”

Was that the right thing to say to a baby?

Probably not, but Shane was _tired_.

She was hungry, Shane finally sussed out, and after a few minutes of wailing while Shane heated a bottle, she was curled up in his arms.

It was the fourth night in a row that Eleanora had woken up crying, and Shane honestly wasn’t sure he was going to make it much longer. He hadn’t been this tired since… he couldn’t remember when.

How anyone ever managed to raise a kid _and_ work _and_ have some semblance of a social life _and_ keep themselves dying of exhaustion was beyond him.

Eleanora finally fell back asleep around 5:30, but by then, it was time for Shane to start trying to get around. He wasn’t working at the office, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t working. There were _so many things_ that you had to do to keep a kid alive, and that wasn’t even taking into account the things he had to do around the house.

He’d managed to get the place baby-proofed within the first two days, thank God, but it’d been a week and a half, now, and the spare room/office space Shane had designated as Eleanora’s room was still full of junk and clutter and _not_ baby supplies.

Shane actually managed to get through all his emails and a cup of coffee before Eleanora awoke again, her mindless babbling echoing through the baby monitor Shane kept close at all times.

“Morning, kiddo,” Shane said as he walked into the room. The baby was on her back in the crib, chewing on the teething ring Shane had gotten from Walmart. “Hope you slept better than I did.”

The slobbery teething ring hit Shane right between the eyes.

“Alright, okay, no need to rub it in,” he sighed, hoisting the baby up to his hip.

He carried Eleanora into the kitchen and sat her at her highchair before getting out the blueberry-banana baby food that would inevitably end up more _on_ her than _in_ her.

“Look, let’s try _eating_ instead of _wearing_ this time, okay, kid?” he said, dipping the spoon into the pureed mess.

Eleanora clapped her chubby little hands.

Shane rolled his eyes.

Honestly, it was hard to be frustrated when she was so _fucking_ adorable.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed. Eleanora opened her mouth, and Shane took the opportunity to feed her.

They actually got through almost the entire jar of baby food relatively mess-free, but then Eleanora decided that _something_ about Shane’s face was just _hilarious_ , and started giggling so hard that the stuff came out of her nose, which only made her laugh _harder,_ spraying everything in a three-foot radius with a lovely combo of mashed fruit, spit, and boogers.

Which, okay.

 _Was_ pretty funny.

“Yuck it up, kid,” Shane said, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “You’re not the one who’s going to be cleaning all this up.”

Eleanora slapped the front of her high chair, shrieking happily.

“I think it’s bath time,” Shane murmured, scooping the girl up in his arms and spinning her around. She laughed and shrieked again.

An hour later, Shane was covered in baby food, snot, slobber, drool, bubbles, and lukewarm bath water, but Eleanora was clean and wrapped up in a little purple overall set and matching lavender bow.

Never let it be said that the Madej household wasn’t fashionable.

A disaster of epic proportions?

Yes.

Unfashionable?

 _Over Shane’s dead body_.

Shane carefully placed the giggling little girl in the old playpen his mother had sent home with him and started cleaning up the massive mess left over from Eleanora’s breakfast.

(He’d gone through more Clorox wipes in the past two weeks than his entire life previous.)

Just Shane’s luck, of course, he’d just pulled off his now disgusting sleep shirt and thrown a ratty dish towel over his shoulder when there was a knock on the door.

“Just a minute!” he shouted, spinning around in search of something-- _anything_ \--to pull on.

Nada.

“ _Shit_ ,” Shane mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He grimaced as he made his way to the door. “Look,” he started as he opened it, “I don’t mean to be, y’know, a dick or anything, but I’m not really in the mood to--oh.”

“Hey,” Ryan said, pointedly looking anywhere but Shane’s bare chest.

“Uh, hey,” Shane said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about… that…”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I, um, I come bearing gifts,” Ryan said, and for the first time, Shane noticed the grocery bags slung over his arm.

“Ryan, you didn’t have to--”

“Well I did, so are you going to let me in or not?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, come on in,” Shane replied, stepping backward. All at once, it hit him what an absolute _disaster_ his apartment was, and he blushed. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Can’t be any worse than my place, man,” Ryan argued.

Shane scoffed, and Ryan stepped inside.

And whistled.

“Thanks,” Shane said dryly.

“I mean, it’s not… _that_ bad…”

“Yeah, and the government is holding the victims of the Bermuda Triangle in underwater Area 51.”

Ryan laughed. “Where’s the kid?”

“Living room. I think she’s watching _Octonauts._ If you wanna put all that on the table, I’ll go, uh, get dressed.”

Ryan nodded and put the bags down while Shane ran to his room.

As he struggled to find a _single_ t-shirt that wasn’t covered in miscellaneous baby mess, Shane heard Ryan’s little gasp as he found Eleanora.

“There she is!” he cooed. “Little baby ‘squatch!”

Shane finally stepped out of his bedroom with the old _Unsolved_ baseball tee pulled over his head just in time to see Ryan whisk the little girl out of her playpen and spin her around. “How’s it going, Nora? Papa Madej treating you alright?” he asked as the baby giggled and clapped her hands.

“ _Papa Madej_ still thinks it’s fucking _weird_ for you to call him that,” Shane interrupted.

“Hey! Language!”

Shane just rolled his eyes. “And stop calling her that. Her name is Eleanora.”

“It’s a nickname, dude. You gotta admit, _Eleanora_ is a mouth full,” Ryan countered.

Shane narrowed his eyes. “ _Eleanora_ is just right, thank you very much.”

Ryan just rolled his eyes. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“She has,” Shane replied.

“I brought eggs and bacon,” Ryan stated, sitting down on the couch and bouncing Eleanora on his lap. “God knows I can’t cook for shi--can’t cook at all, but I can watch Nora while you make something.”

“Sounds good,” Shane agreed. “I just fed her and changed her and stuff, so she should be okay for a bit. You shouldn’t have to do any, like, advanced parenting stuff.”

“You throwing me a softball?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shane winked. “Batter up, baby!”

Ryan laughed again, wheezing into Eleanora’s hair as Shane excused himself to the kitchen.

There was something therapeutic about scrambling those eggs and frying that bacon.

Pre-Eleanora Shane scrambled eggs.

Pre-Eleanora Shane fried bacon.

Life was still the same, somehow.

“Ryan!” Shane yelled. “Are you going to want any of this?”

“Uh, I wouldn’t say _no_ …”

Shane rolled his eyes. “There’s a plate for you on the table,” he called. “I think there’s juice in the fridge.”

“Gotta love that Midwestern hospitality,” Ryan teased, placing Eleanora in her highchair. He got two glasses out of the cupboard and the juice from the fridge, and before Shane knew it, they were sitting at his kitchen table with the sunlight cutting through the window and the birds singing like the intro to _Leave it to Beaver_.

Shane ignored how it made his heart squeeze.

“How’s it going at the office?” he asked, shoveling another bite of eggs into his mouth.

“I mean, it’s as normal as it ever gets at Buzzfeed. Kristin and Devin somehow convinced half the guys on our floor to wear skirts for a week, so that was fun. People have been asking about you and Nora. I’m actually supposed to demand that you start sending pictures on pain of death,” Ryan responded.

Shane glanced over at Eleanora, whose bow was now lopsided and who was trying to eat her own fingers. “That… that’s probably feasible.”

“How are _you_ doing, man? No offense, but you look like death barely warmed over,” Ryan said bluntly.

“Death microwaved on high for thirty seconds?”

“Death left in the sink overnight to defrost.”

“Yikes.”

“Seriously, big guy. You alright?” Ryan pressed. Shane stared at him for a moment.

“I'm averaging four and a half hours of sleep a night, there is baby food on my ceiling, and I'm half convinced the air in here counts as toxic fumes. Yesterday I hallucinated Obi telling me I was doomed to lead Eleanora down a path of eternal despair,” he said dryly.

“ _Dude_.”

“I'm kidding. Mostly. I'm fine, Ry,” Shane insisted.

“That's BS and you know it,” Ryan said, pointing an accusatory finger in Shane's direction. “Look, how about I watch Nora for a few hours while you catch up on sleep and clean up and stuff?”

“Ryan, I can't ask you to--”

“You didn't, man. I'm _offering_. I can't have my co-host dying on me, right?”

“Well, I mean, you _could._ It'd make for some quality entertainment. You could bring over the spirit box, try and talk to my non-existent ghost. _The Elusive Spirit of Shane Madej_.”

“Shane,” Ryan said seriously. “Go. Rest. Get things, y’know, tidied up or whatever. I can watch Nora.”

“Are you sure? This one won’t be a softball. This is, like… hardball. Bowling ball. Bowling ball parenting,” Shane rambled.

“Dude. I watch my cousins’ kids all the time. We’ll be fine. We got this,” Ryan promised, and then a moment later: “Do you have a stroller?”

“A _stroller_?”

“Yeah! The kid needs, like, fresh air and stuff. You can’t keep her cooped up in here all the time.”

“Well I’m _sorry_ , I’ve mostly been focussed on keeping us alive and mostly sane,” Shane mumbled under his breath.

He could almost _feel_ Ryan’s judgemental look.

He shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I think there’s one in her room,” he muttered.

“Her room?”

“It’s, uh, the spare room. It’s not done yet, so bar your judgements for later, please.”

Shane felt a hand rest against his shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine, big guy. You and Nora both,” Ryan reassured him.

“But it’s _not fine_ , Ryan. It’s, like, the _opposite_ of fine,” Shane stated, feeling as if a dam had been broken within him. “I--I’m _trying_ , I’m _trying_ to be a good parent or guardian or whatever, but I have _no clue_ what I’m doing. I’m going to fuck this up. I’m going to fuck _her_ up, I just know it.”

“Don’t say that,” Ryan said immediately, sitting back down next to Shane. “Listen, man, you’ve been doing this for a _week_. One week. No one… no one is like, ah,” there was a pause for a moment, “No one is Jack Pearson in a week. It takes time. You’ll figure it out. You won’t mess Nora up.”

“But--”

“And doubting yourself _definitely_ isn’t going to be helpful,” Ryan interrupted. “The kid needs you, Shane. She needs you to pull your head out of your ass.”

“So much for not swearing in front of the baby,” Shane murmured.

“Dude. Go take your nap, get the place cleaned up. You’ll feel better about all this afterward,” Ryan said, patting Shane on the back. “Promise.”

 

Funnily enough, he was right.

***

Ryan kept coming over.

It wasn’t an issue, really. In fact, Shane was grateful to have his best friend with him so often. Ryan reminded him of the rest of the world, that there were things outside of him and Eleanora and the ever-looming dread that things were mere moments away from going to shit.

Ryan came over every other day or so, scooping Eleanora up in his arms and babbling to her about how she’d missed her favorite Uncle Ryan, hadn’t she?

Shane pretended like it wasn’t the cutest goddamn thing he’d ever seen.

“You two are going to give me diabetes,” Shane said, glancing up from the high chair tray he was washing.

“You love it. Isn’t that right, Nora? Dad loves it, doesn’t he?”

Shane _also_ pretended not to freak out every time Ryan referred to him as Eleanora’s dad.

“You’ve gotta stop calling her that, man. She’s five months old, you’re probably confusing her,” he said.

Ryan bounced her in his lap and grinned as she laughed. “She’s a smart cookie, she’ll figure it out.”

Shane rolled his eyes.

“What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?” Ryan asked.

“I, uh, I actually have no idea,” Shane admitted, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn green stain. He couldn’t afford another to-and-from flight to Illinois, not after having _just_ gone up two weeks ago, not after having to rearrange his whole budget to account for baby food and diapers and formula. “I’m sure they sell turkey flavored baby food, and I think Eleanora will probably get a kick out of the parade--”

“You should come with me,” Ryan interrupted. “I mean, if you want. My parents have already said it’s fine, and God knows my mom would _love_ to have another baby around.”

“Are you--are you sure? It won’t be too much of a hassle?” Shane questioned.

“Dude, no. You’re my best friend, I’m not about to let you and your kid sit around by yourselves on Thanksgiving and eat freezer-aisle microwaved turkey dinners,” Ryan insisted. “It won’t be a big deal. The drive won’t be long, and Nora will get to meet new people.”

Shane was quiet, for a moment.

“If you say so,” he finally relented. “But you’re driving.”

Ryan stared at him as if to say, _duh, you idiot_.

The highchair tray was placed on the rack to dry, and Shane looked around the kitchen.

It was clean. The living room was tidy. Emails were answered, bills were paid, chicken breast for dinner was already sat out to thaw.

For the first time since he'd gotten that call, Shane felt truly relaxed, almost like his old self.

He walked into the living room and placed a light kiss onto Eleanora’s forehead. “I’m gonna try and get a quick nap in,” he told Ryan. “Won’t be more than an hour or so. That cool?”

“Yeah, man,” Ryan agreed. “Take all the time you need. Nora and I might go to the park, so don’t be freaked out if we’re not here when you wake up.”

Shane nodded. Three days ago, Ryan hadn’t told Shane about his plans to take Eleanora on a walk and Shane had woken up to his kid and his best friend both missing, and had almost had a meltdown before Ryan walked back into the apartment with Eleanora balanced on his hip.

“I’m so glad you’re both okay, but if you _ever_ do that again, I’ll kill you,” Shane had threatened, snatching Eleanora from Ryan's arms and burying his face in her soft brown hair.

Now, Ryan smiled up at Shane and placed his own kiss on Eleanora’s head. “Go get some rest, big guy,” he said.

Shane did.

***

Sometimes, Eleanora just cried.

She'd wake up in the middle of the night, tears already streaming down her face and her chest shaking with tiny, terrible, hiccuping sobs.

She'd be lying on her blanket in the floor, content one moment and wailing the next, beating the floor with her little fists.

She'd be sitting in Shane's lap, and she'd look him in the eyes, and Shane would watch as her eyes grew red and misty.

He understood why.

Six months didn't seem like much, but it'd been her whole world. Her whole lifetime.

No matter how hard he tried, Shane would never be able to fix it. He'd never be able to give her back what she'd lost.

In a lot of ways, he'd failed her already.

He didn't _want_ to. God only knew how much he cared for the kid already, and God only knew how much that scared the shit out of him.

No matter what the viewers thought, Shane knew the truth.

He was coward. He wasn't cut out for the whole parenting thing. He was going to mess up, inevitably. There were always going to be tears he couldn't wipe away because the little in his arms wasn't supposed to be his.

But she was, goddamn it.

And sometimes, Shane felt like crying with her.

***

Shane finally caved on Thanksgiving and posted a picture of Eleanora on his Instagram.

It was the first time he’d mentioned anything about her publicly--hell, it was the first time he’d mentioned _anything_ publicly since he’d gotten the call--and people ate it up.

Shane really couldn’t blame them.

Eleanora looked _adorable_ in her little brown onesie, red and orange tutu, and matching bow. Ryan had found the outfit at TJ-Maxx a week before, and it was so cute Shane could cry.

The photo was of the three of them in Ryan’s car, Shane just barely peeking out from behind Eleanora’s head as Ryan took the selfie.

_Ready to party like it’s 1621!_

Almost immediately, Shane was reminded why he hadn’t done this already.

“They’re calling her _ghoul baby_ , Ryan,” he complained.

“It’s cute!”

“ _No_ , it’s _not_ . My child is not going to be a _ghoul baby_.”

“You’re a ghoul boy, and now you’ve got a little ghoul baby!” Ryan gasped. “ _She needs a shirt_.”

“ _No_.”

“We can get her little ghoul stomping boots!”

“ _Ryan_.”

“Just imagine it, Shane! Little Nora in ghost busting boots. She’d be Boot Baby!”

“We’re not doing this. My daughter is _not_ going to be a ghost hunter. This isn’t _Supernatural_ , Ryan. We’re not raising her _in the life_.”

“You’re just afraid she’ll be a Boogara.”

“You take that back, sir!”

Ryan wheezed from behind the steering wheel, and Eleanora kicked her feet in her little car seat behind them.

“You’re gonna be a little Shaniac, right Eleanora? You’re not going to be a silly Boogara like your crazy Uncle Ryan,” Shane insisted.

Eleanora just giggled.

“We’ll come back to this,” Shane promised her.

 

Thanksgiving was almost annoyingly perfect. Ryan’s mother greeted them each at the door with a massive hug, taking Eleanora and kissing each of her chubby baby cheeks.

The food was wonderful, the atmosphere was great, and Shane didn’t think he’d ever seen Ryan smile so much.

They were all sitting on the couch after lunch, Eleanora asleep in Shane’s lap while Shane pretended to watch the football game and Ryan _did_ watch the football game.

The whole thing felt…

Domestic.

Almost cloyingly domestic.

Shane felt the need to beat back his emotions with a stick.

“So,” Shane said, rubbing Eleanora’s back and ignoring the stupid little backflips his heart was doing, “I was thinking about setting up Eleanora’s nursery on Saturday.”

“What time do you want me there?” Ryan asked without hesitating.

“One-thirty? You bring beer, I’ll make lunch?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ryan said with a grin. He leaned over and ruffled Eleanora’s hair, and the baby rested her head against Shane’s chest.

***

Eleanora’s room was painted with a soft yellow color Shane had picked up from Lowes on a Black Friday sale. After a good 45 minutes of struggle, he and Ryan managed to get the doors off of the closet in the room, and they carefully maneuvered her newly painted turquoise crib into the space.

“Dude, when did you buy all the baby decorations?” Ryan asked as he tried to untangle himself from the string of mini paper lanterns they were trying to hang over the crib.

“We painted the town red yesterday, didn’t we, Eleanora?” Shane asked, poking the baby’s tummy.

Eleanora clapped and giggled from her position in the high chair they’d moved into the nursery.

“And you’re sure all of this stuff is baby proof? Nontoxic? No lead?” Ryan pressed.

“No, Ryan, I’m going to have my baby sleep in a poisonous crib,” Shane countered with a roll of his eyes.

“I was just double checking!”

“Have some faith, little guy,” Shane said, taking the lanterns from Ryan and pinning them above the door frame. “Could you hand me those Christmas lights?”

“You’re really going full Pinterest here, aren’t you?”

Shane felt the back of his neck heat up. “I, uh… I mean, yeah. She deserves the world, y’know?” he asked. He felt like he couldn’t meet Ryan’s eyes. “She deserves the best, and I haven’t been that. Yet. So far. So, I’m going to make her the most kick-ass baby nursery ever, and we’re going to… we’re going to get better. I’m going to _be_ better.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “She’s lucky to have you, man,” Ryan said.

 _God_ , Shane could kiss him.

“Yeah, well,” he said, clearing his throat. “I sure fucking hope so.”

“She’s also going to have the mouth of a sailor, I hope you know that.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”

Ryan laughed, squeezing Shane’s shoulder before turning and handing him the string of lights.

Shane stared at him for a moment. Ryan, with blue and yellow smeared across his face and hands and bare feet (“There is _no way_ I’m painting in these shoes, dude.” “Then why did you _wear them_?”), smiling and laughing like the goddamn sun.

He was so screwed.

***

Eleanora seemed to like her new nursery.

She also liked sweet potato baby food, Peppa Pig, and the baby shark song.

She cried when Shane washed her hair and laughed when he tickled her feet and shrieked when he tried to put a hat on her.

And she positively _beamed_ when they danced.

It started with Shane spinning her around as _Under Pressure_ played on the kitchen radio. He dipped her and hopped from foot to foot as he tried to sing along with Freddie Mercury.

He was actually concerned for her health, afraid she was seizing or something similar as she absolutely _cackled_ with laughter.

Shane almost would've called it a wheeze.

It continued with crazy twirls to Sidney Gish and Billy Joel, dramatic waltzes to the _Game of Thrones_ soundtrack, and awkward little bounces to _NPR's Jazz Lab_ late at night when Eleanora refused to sleep.

It was one of those nights, when not even rocking to the beat of a big band rhythm section would calm Eleanora's cries, that Shane first started to sing.

It was a weird line to cross. There was something so unquestionably _parent_ _like_ to it. He was literally singing his daughter a lullaby, standing in the kitchen with her head against his chest, peering down at her long lashes hiding those big blue eyes.

The song was one from his old choir days, a simple little melody that had, for some reason, always stuck with Shane.

_Jenny Rebecca, four days old, how do you like the world so far?_

_Jenny Rebecca, four days old, what a lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky girl you are._

As he stared down at his little girl, his own Jenny Rebecca, Shane felt something well up in his throat.

They swayed around the room slowly as Shane sang, Eleanora's little fist gripping the collar of his t-shirt.

He ignored the tears dripping off the edge of his nose.

“What a lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky girl you are,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Eleanora's head.

She was fast asleep.


	2. What To Say To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's christmas, bitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapter, let's go!
> 
> i'm hoping this works, i'm hoping you enjoy it!

“Can she sit up yet? Is she rolling over? You know, when you were her age, you were already a little hellion, always yelling and kicking and causing a ruckus--”

“She--she’s rolled over, I think. And she laughs a lot. The other day, Ryan was over, and she was lying on his stomach, and I don’t know  _ what  _ they were doing, but she was laughing so loud we got a noise complaint,” Shane said as he struggled to get a sock on Eleanora’s foot.

“Is Ryan over often?” his mother asked.

“Uh, yeah, actually. He comes over every other day or so, helps watch Eleanora while I clean up or whatever.”

“You’re lucky to have him, you know.”

“Yeah, Mom, I know.”

“And you’d better send me some photos here soon! It’s already a shame that I don’t ever get to spend time with my grandbaby, the least you could do is send me a picture.”

“Yeah, I'll send you the ones I've got on my phone,” Shane said. “We're actually about to head to, uh,  _ baby story time _ or something like that at the library. I'll do it while Eleanora is, like. Doing whatever babies do during baby story time.”

Shane heard his mother laugh, the sound ringing with something that Shane couldn't place his finger on.

“What? What's so funny?”

“Oh, it's nothing,” his mother replied. “I just always knew you'd take to being a dad.”

For a moment, Shane was quiet. “I'll see you at Christmas, Mom,” he finally said. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” his mother replied.

***

It all happened because Shane left his jean jacket at Ghoul HQ.

It wasn't  _ cold  _ out by any means, but it was a wee bit chilly, sometimes, when Shane was exposed to the occasional nippy breeze as he pushed Eleanora in the baby swings at the park.

Just chilly enough to warrant the wearing of one a jean jacket with a particular French fries pin. 

But Shane had forgotten it, stupidly, the last time he'd gone into work. He could've just asked Ryan to bring it by any of the 7,000 times he'd been over since, but he had a baby, damn it, he was allowed to be forgetful, and at this point, he was tired of waiting.

“Alright, kiddo, time for a field trip,” Shane muttered as he fastened the clamps of Eleanora's car seat. “We're gonna go see Uncle Ryan, okay? Give him a little surprise visit.”

Eleanora didn’t respond, instead enthralled by the metal clasps that were holding up her flower-printed dungarees.

“Autobots, roll out,” Shane said to himself as he climbed into the front seat.

Surely, things would be fine.

 

“Has anyone seen Eleanora?” Shane asked as he burst into the cantina.

He’d recovered his jean jacket.

But at what  _ cost _ ?

“Have we--Shane?” Andrew asked, staring at him for a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be on family--”

“I am, I am, I just needed to come and get my jacket, and I had Jen watch Eleanora while I went down to Ghoul HQ, and now I can’t find--”

“You brought the baby?” Steven asked. “Can I hold her?”

“Maybe once I  _ find her _ ,” Shane snapped. “Has anyone seen Jen? She wasn’t at the desks, and she’s still got Eleanora, I think, and she’s not answering her phone, and I already checked the parking lot--”

“Shane?” Ryan asked, poking his head around the corner.

“Ryan!” Shane said. “Have you seen Jen? Have you seen Eleanora--”

“Babababa!” Eleanora screeched as Ryan walked into the cantina, the baby in his arms.

“Oh thank  _ God _ ,” Shane said, snatching the girl up and placing a kiss on her forehead. “Where--where was she? Where’s Jen?”

“She had to use the restroom, so I offered to take Nora. Hey, did you bring the diaper bag? I think she’s hungry,” Ryan said.

Shane kissed the top of Eleanora’s head, again. “Yeah, it should be at my desk. We--we’re not planning on staying very long, I just needed to get my jacket.”

“Dude, you can’t bring your baby in and  _ not _ let us see her!” Steven shouted from behind him.

“She needs to see more people than just you and me, Shane. It’ll be good for her,” Ryan added.

Shane considered it for a minute. “Okay, fine,” he said, “But it’s almost naptime, and I’m not going to listen to her scream all the way through LA lunchtime traffic, so it can’t be a long visit.”

“I’ll go get her a bottle, you make sure Steven doesn’t try and get her to try three different baby foods at three drastically different price points or something,” Ryan said, ruffling Eleanora’s hair. “Then Uncle Ryan can show you his ghost-hunting equipment!”

“For the last time, we’re not making her a ghoul baby!” Shane yelled after him as Ryan all but ran out of the cantina.

“Can I hold the baby now? Please?” Steven asked, looking like he was  _ seconds _ away from making grabby hands.

“Okay, but you gotta support her head like--okay, good, so, we’re trying to encourage her to start sitting up, so you’re going to wrap your arm behind her like this so that she’s propped up…” Shane helped Steven reposition so that Eleanora was facing him as she sat up in his lap. “There we go! Hey, baby girl, lookie here! New people! Wow!”

Eleanora giggled and immediately went to grab Steven’s hair.

Shane grinned.

“So,” Andrew said, still watching as Steven struggled to keep Eleanora from flattening his coif (Ryan had stopped wearing his up on his so-called  _ Nora Days _ , and Shane simply didn’t have the time to bother anymore), “Uncle Ryan, huh?”

“Oh. Yeah, he claimed that title for himself,” Shane explained. “Someday we’re going to have to have a conversation about relationships and family and stuff, but she’s already adopted, so that talk was going to have to happen anyway.”

“He’s over a lot, isn’t he?” Andrew pressed. “I mean, we all knew that. You and Nora are all he talks about.”

Shane felt his face heat up but did his best to ignore it. “Please, don’t tell me he’s got you all calling her that, too. Her name is  _ Eleanora _ .”

“Shane…”

“Look, he’s a good friend. Honestly, I don’t know what we’d do without him--”

“Dude, we all know you’ve got feelings for him,” Steven interrupted. “You’re, like, not even subtle. The only reason Ryan doesn’t know is because he’s oblivious, man.”

Shane ran a hand over his face. “Look, it’s not-- _ yes _ , I, y’know,  _ like him _ or whatever, but it’s not like that. He’s just been helping me out with Eleanora. I can’t--I can’t try anything, right now, anyway. I’ve got a kid, she’s got to be my focus,” Shane stated. “I can’t afford to make things awkward with him.”

Then, as an afterthought.

“Plus he’s straight, so even if I wanted to, there’s no point in trying.”

Steven and Andrew both stared at him for a moment.

Finally, Andrew looked like he was about to say something, when--

“I’ve got it,” Ryan said, entering the cantina with a bottle and a flock of people. “Also, everyone wants to meet Nora.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” Shane said. “She  _ is _ the best baby.”

Ryan laughed, his eyes crinkling up. “Of course she is,” he said. “She’s got the best dad, and the best uncle, ever.”

“Oh  _ hell  _ yeah,” Shane agreed. “Isn’t that right, Eleanora?”

Eleanora squealed.

Shane caught the look Steven and Andrew shared.

If only they knew Shane didn’t know what he was doing, either.

***

Shane couldn't remember the last time he'd been so excited for the holidays. He wasn't a scrooge or anything, but he usually didn't have this much…  _ Christmas cheer _ .

He'd admit, he went a bit over the top on decorations, but goddamn it, it was his little girl's first Christmas, and Shane was going to do it right.

Ryan came bearing eggnog, six boxes of mini lights, and a bundle of Garland from  _ Michael's _ .

Shane pulled out the elf hats and his _ Bing Crosby  _ holiday album.

They'd gotten impressively far into their decorative exploits before Shane realized it.

“Oh  _ shit _ !” he yelled, dropping the strand of lights in his hands. “I don't have a tree!”

“Seriously?” Ryan asked. “Do you  _ seriously  _ not have a Christmas tree?”

“No! I've always gone home for Christmas, or to Sara's family's place, so we never… I never saw the point,” Shane admitted.

Okay, so maybe he was a  _ little  _ scroogish. Sue him.

(Don't. There was no way he could afford a baby  _ and  _ a lawyer.)

“ _ Dude _ .”

“I know! I know. Look, I'm sure there's a place nearby that sells fake trees,” Shane placated. “We just have to make a little detour. It'll be  _ fine. _ ”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but Shane could sense the fondness behind the gesture. “Your daddy is a  _ mess _ ,” he said to Eleanora, who was smacking the big, gold gift bow Shane had stuck to her headband.

“Okay, alright, no trash talking me to my kid, Bergara,” Shane argued, scooping Eleanora up in his arms. “You get her boots, I'm going to grab my wallet and keys. Meet you at the car?”

“We're not going to fit a  _ Christmas tree _ in your car.”

“Well, you don't have the car seat, and I don't want to have to deal with moving it again, so we're just going to have to make it work,” Shane said. “C'mon, Eleanora. Let's go get you buckled in!”

***

For some reason Shane would  _ never  _ understand, Eleanora  _ loved  _ Costco.

She loved to bounce up and down in the little race car baby stroller Ryan insisted on pushing her in, she stared in awe up at the rows of boxed macaroni, she giggled and shrieked as she tried to pull down the toilet paper tower display.

It seemed the overall holiday feel of the store did nothing to dampen those feelings.

Shane watched as she stared up at the massive Christmas tree displays, her chubby little cheeks lit up on the multicolored lights.

“I think I like the white one,” Shane stated, gesturing to the tree in question.

“Don't you think you should get a bigger one so you don’t look even more like an Ent?” Ryan asked.

Shane made sure to cover Eleanora's eyes before flipping him off.

“Any bigger and we won't have room for the star on top,” Shane pointed out.

“Do you even have Christmas tree decorations?”

“Um,” Shane said, blinking twice. “Fuck.”

Ryan laughed. “Okay,” he said, “you stay here, get a couple more boxes of lights, and I'll go get some ornaments.”

“Wait! Take Eleanora. See which kind she likes. And pick up toothpaste, we're out.”

“Which kind?”

Shane took a step back, affronted. “We are a Crest-only household and you  _ know it. _ ”

“Your kid is going to have canker sores her whole life, just you wait.”

“Get out of my sight, heretic.”

Ryan wheezed and spun Eleanora's stroller around. “C'mon, baby girl. Let's go get some pretty decorations.”

“And toothpaste!”

“And your daddy's stupid toothpaste.”

***

“ _ No. _ ”

“Shane, c'mon, you know you love it!”

“I most certainly do  _ not _ !”

“Nora loves it!”

“Stop using my daughter as a scapegoat,” Shane argued, looking at the offending object.

The little ghost-shaped ornament was wearing a sparkly Santa hat.

“Are you seriously going to look me in the eye and tell me that you don't want ghost Santa on your Christmas tree?”

“Yes.”

“I'm getting it anyway.”

“ _ Ryan. _ ”

Ryan crosses his arms and raised his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Shane said. “But if you get a dumb ornament, so do I. Watch Elenora, I'll be right back.”

He took off down to the ornament aisle and  _ prayed _ that they had what he wanted.

He looked around quickly until his eye finally landed on what he was looking for.

_ Bingo _ .

“Are you  _ kidding me _ ?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You're going to put  _ a hotdog  _ on your tree?”

“Yup.”

“If it weren't for Nora, I'd murder you right now.”

“Wow, alright then. And to think, I was going to ask you to be in our Christmas card.”

“Christmas card?” Ryan repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah. They’ve got that shitty family portrait place in here somewhere, I thought we could pick up a Christmas outfit for Eleanora and hats or something for us and get our picture done,” Shane offered with a shrug. “Write some sappy, heartwarming shit on the back, put ‘em in a few envelopes, bada-bing bada-boom.”

“That’s… actually a pretty good idea,” Ryan conceded.

“Well, that sucks for you because you’re no longer invited.”

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, Ryan with Eleanora on his hip and Shane with a grin on his face.

“I’ll buy lunch,” Ryan stated.

“Wow, would you look at that, I seem to have forgotten the last two minutes of my life. Say, Ryan, would you like to be in our Christmas card photo?”

Shane thought Ryan was going to drop his kid with how hard he was laughing.

(Shane didn’t think it was  _ that _ funny, but he wasn’t going to bring it up if it meant Ryan kept smiling like that.)

 

The photos came out  _ amazing _ , but it wasn't like Shane was surprised. Call him biased, but he was pretty sure he had the cutest baby in the history of the world.

Eleanora was sat on Ryan’s shoulders, smiling away, as Shane held her hands and peeked out from behind them both.

All three of them were in tacky sweaters, Ryan with an elf hat, Shane with antlers, and Eleanora with a massive Christmas bow on her head.

“We’re fucking  _ killing _ this whole baby thing,” Shane said as he held the twenty-four wallet-sized prints in his hands. He also had a 4x6 image in his pocket and a cheap plywood frame.

“Oh, yeah, totally. That’s why your daughter is currently throwing cans of mini-ravioli at random Costco shoppers,” Ryan stated, raising his eyebrows.

“What?” Shane asked, turning to face his child, who was, in fact, throwing ravioli cans in the direction of a mother and her son.

Perfect.

“Eleanora Rose Austin!” he said, snatching the ravioli from her hands and placing it back on the shelf. “We--we do  _ not _ throw canned pasta at people, young lady.”

Eleanora stared up at him for a moment and blinked twice before slowly grabbing another can from the shelf next to her and tossed straight at Shane’s head.

Shane ducked just in time, and he heard Ryan try to stifle a laugh. “Don’t  _ encourage her _ ,” he snapped. He stood up and pushed the cart away from the shelf before turning to the woman and her son, both of whom seemed to be enjoying the spectacle in front of them. “I’m so sorry, she’s… a handful.”

“They always are at that age,” the woman said with a smile. “Good thing she’s cute, huh?”

Shane laughed under his breath. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

“You boys just wait until she can walk. You won’t know what hit you,” the woman said. “Good luck!”

Shane watched as she led her son out of the canned food aisle, his mind suddenly full of images of Eleanora’s first steps, Eleanora toddling around his apartment, Eleanora holding his hand as they walked through the grocery store.

Fuck, when did he become so  _ sentimental _ ? Wasn’t Ryan supposed to be the emotional one?

“Dude, are we ready to go? Nora looks like she’s about to start using the ornaments as ammunition,” Ryan said. “Plus, we’ve got to, y’know, actually somehow manage to fit a whole Christmas tree in your car.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, Ryan.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

(They ended up having to call one of Ryan’s roommates with a truck. Shane took a page from Eleanora’s book and tossed the tube of toothpaste at Ryan when he said  _ I told you so _ .)

***

Shane didn’t know when, exactly, they agreed Ryan would be coming over on Christmas Eve, but it happened somewhere along the line, apparently, because he was currently sitting on Shane’s couch, drinking eggnog and eating 7-11 taquitos as the little Lord Jesus intended.

“ _ Die Hard _ is a holiday  _ classic _ ,” he stated with confidence, and Shane almost resisted the urge to toss him off the fire escape.

“No. Nuh-uh. You can _ not _ be one of those people. Is  _ Die Hard _ an excellent piece of cinema? Absolutely. Do I have daydreams where I save my ex-wife and all her coworkers from certain death at the hands of Severus Snape-lookalike terrorists? Me and every other person in America. Is it a Christmas movie?  _ No. _ ”

“They’re at a Christmas party!”

“You of all people should know setting doesn’t equal theme, Mr. I Went To Film School.”

“He puts a Santa hat on that one dude. There are Christmas carols.”

“Just admit you want to watch Bruce Willis blow up bad guys,” Shane accused. “Besides, it’s  _ so _ not child appropriate, and believe it or not, I actually  _ don’t _ want Eleanora’s first word to be ‘motherfucker’.”

“Dude.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little late for that, but that doesn’t mean I want her to develop some sort of Tarantino-esque foot fetish. We’re not watching  _ Die Hard _ .”

“You’ve got no Christmas spirit.”

Shane placed a hand over his heart, faux-offended. “You take that back, sir.”

“Never.”

Shane was about to argue, a witty retort on the tip of his tongue when Eleanora started squealing from her position on her blanket on the floor. Apparently, babies were supposed to have ‘tummy time’, at least according to Ryan, who still denied looking up parenting blogs even though Shane had caught him no less than four times.

“Aw, baby, are we not paying enough attention to you?” Shane asked, picking up the baby and putting her in his lap.

Eleanora smacked his chest and glared at him as if to say,  _ no, you are  _ _ not _ _ paying enough attention to me. _

Shane hadn’t ever thought of babies as capable of sass before he met Eleanora.

Honestly, he hadn’t really thought of babies  _ period _ before he met Eleanora.

“She’s going to be  _ such  _ a mess when she gets older,” Ryan stated, poking Eleanora in the stomach. “Aren’t you, sweetheart? You’re gonna run Daddy and Uncle Ryan into an early grave, right Nora?”

Eleanora, to her credit, just laughed.

“Man, you’ve  _ got _ to stop calling me that. She’s not going to call me  _ daddy _ , it’s… weird.”

“It’s what kids call their fathers, Shane.”

“Okay, yes, but you and I have both been on the internet long enough to know that it’s been  _ tarnished _ .”

“Then what  _ is _ she going to call you? Papa?  _ Oh, Papa, please allow me to ride into town to see my wealthy suitor, it’s 1764 and we’re all dying of tuberculosis _ \--”

“I don’t know! She can’t even talk yet, we’ve got time.”

“She’s seven months old, Shane. She’s going to start talking soon, and she can’t just go around calling you  _ Shane _ .  _ That _ would be weird.”

“You know, I  _ could _ just be Dad. Plain and simple, just regular ol’ Dad. That’ll be me, good ol’ Dad Madej.  _ Dadej _ !”

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan muttered, rubbing his temples. “You, sir, are truly the worst person I've ever met.”

“Your Uncle Ryan is always such a delight, isn't he, Eleanora?”

“Your Uncle Ryan is  _ the goddamn best _ because he brought presents for you  _ and your dad _ ,” Ryan countered.

“And we both thoroughly appreciate it,” Shane stated, placing a kiss on Eleanora's forehead. “Speaking of, you wanna bust those babies open now, or are you one of those  _ not-until-Christmas _ people?”

“Usually? I'd tell you to wait, but I really want to see Nora open hers, and it'd be mean of me to say you couldn't, so,” Ryan said. “I  _ guess _ you can open yours, too.”

“Wow, you’re so considerate,” Shane replied.

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan muttered under his breath as he grabbed two frankly  _ terribly _ wrapped packages from under Shane’s (perfectly decorated) Christmas tree. “Nora gets to go first because she’s the cutest and my favorite.”

“At least you’re honest,” Shane stated, watching as Ryan carefully placed the misshapen gift in front of Eleanora.

It took a little prompting from both of them, but eventually, Eleanora was absolutely  _ destroying _ that shitty Dollar Tree wrapping paper, shrieking in delight as she ripped it to pieces.

There were two shoe boxes inside, one of normal, adult size and one that was remarkably smaller, both taped shut.

“Oh wow, I wonder what it could be,” Shane deadpanned as he tore away the tape and lifted the lid of the smaller box to reveal the teeniest, tiniest pair of sneakers Shane had ever seen.

“Oh my God,” he said. “You got my daughter  _ sport shoes _ !”

“No niece of mine is getting clowned on for wearing  _ Sketchers _ .”

“She can’t even walk yet, Ryan.”

“Hey, you’re never too young for your first pair of Jordans. Plus, you haven’t even seen what’s in the other box.”

“I swear to God, if you got my daughter a jersey I’m revoking your uncle privileges. You’ll be stuck at  _ casual acquaintance Ryan _ , who she only sees twice a year and thinks is vaguely creepy. I’m not kidding. This isn’t a bit.”

“It’s not--just  _ open it _ , you dumbass.”

Shane glared at him for another moment before sighing and opening the second box.

The stuffed bear was almost as big as Eleanora was, huge and fuzzy and wearing a deerstalker hat. Its little magnifying glass was looped onto its hand with an elastic, and the  _ Build-a-Bear  _ birth certificate next to it proclaiming its name was CiCi.

“It was supposed to be just, like, the letters  _ CC _ , but the girl at the desk messed it up, so--”

Shane didn’t know what to say.

It wasn’t as if Eleanora didn’t have a teddy bear--no, she actually had a  _ surplus  _ of stuffed bears, enough to form a small bear army or a creepy stuffed animal alleged-demon-circle.

But this…

“This is  _ wonderful _ .”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, I thought so too. It’s a little corny, and a little too Sherlock-y, but they didn’t have fedora hats or trench coats or pinstripe suits, so I figured this was the next best thing--”

“Ryan,” Shane interrupted. “I’m not kidding. This is perfect. Thank you.”

“No, uh, no problem, big guy,” Ryan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “This, uh, this one’s for you.”

After Shane carefully placed Eleanora on the floor, CiCi already clutched in her little hands, Ryan handed Shane a significantly smaller box with a large, sparkly bow slapped on top of it, as if that would distract from the fact that it was flattened on one side.

“Hope it wasn’t a mug,” Shane mumbled, turning the package over in his hands.

“Haha, very funny. Open it before I take it back.”

The box itself was an old Amazon Prime box, and Shane couldn’t help but feel a little anxious as he opened it.

“I got you part of it before Nora, and part of it after, but I really hope you like it, so--”

“Ryan, I’m sure I’ll love it, if you ever even let me open it.”

Ryan rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else.

“A… tie?” Shane asked.

“Read what it says.”

Shane flipped the blue piece of fabric over and immediately started laughing.

There, in bright pink puffy paint, were the words  _ World’s Okayest Dad _ .

“Real original, Ry. Abso--Absolutely  _ no one _ has ever made that joke before,” Shane wheezed, shaking his head. “This is… Jesus Christ, is there  _ glitter glue  _ on this?”

“Your daughter is a little artist,” Ryan said with a shrug.

“What--”

“We made it while you were out grocery shopping a few weeks ago. I wrote the words, Nora did the decorating.”

When she heard her name, Eleanora took a break from playing with CiCi’s ears to screech and clap her hands.

“You proud of your work, baby girl?” Shane asked. “Did you help Uncle Ryan?”

“She did. She was a big help. Definitely didn’t get fabric paint on her dress--”

“The yellow one?”

“Maaaaybe.”

“I’ve been  _ wondering  _ where that went!”

“There’s more in there, if you wanna look,” Ryan said, gesturing to the package still sitting in Shane’s lap.

Shane carefully placed the tie aside and reached back into the box.

He pulled out a silver compass on a chain.

There was an engraving on the back.

 

_ Sometimes your life doesn't go exactly as you planned.  Sometimes you get lost. Hopefully, this helps. _

_ -Ryan _

 

Shane coughed twice, willing the lump in his throat to go down. “Wow,” he said lamely. “This… this is incredible, Ryan. Thank you.”

“No problem, man,” Ryan replied, scratching at the back of his neck.

“I, uh, lemme go get yours out of the bedroom, okay? I didn't want to put it where Obi or Eleanora could get to it,” Shane said, hopping to his feet and rubbing his hands together.

Honestly, emotions could go kindly  _ fuck right off, _ Shane was  _ done with it _ .

Ryan's present sat in a little red envelope, and had been moved from Shane's the top right dresser drawer (which now held some of Eleanora's pajamas) on the top shelf of Shane's closet, where the shorter man couldn't reach.

He'd gotten it back in October, before everything changed, and honestly, he was glad he did. There was no way he could've pulled it off after getting Eleanora.

“Here,” he said, handing Ryan the envelope. “It's not… it's not as special as what you got me, I'm sorry, but--”

“ _ Courtside seats to the Lakers? _ ” Ryan interrupted, his voice so high and so loud Shane was pretty sure he was going to get another noise complaint. “Dude! This is awesome! Holy shit!”

“Yeah, and there should be, like, a special pass in there or something? So that you can meet, like, the guys? The important basketball ones?” Shane said with a shrug. “I dunno. It just… it seemed like something you'd like.”

“Like? Dude, I  _ love it _ . I'm gonna meet LeBron! Holy  _ fuck _ , Jesus Christ, I'm going to die a happy man!”

“Well, I'm glad we've guaranteed that, now.”

“Shane, really. This is… amazing. Thank you so much,” Ryan said, gazing up at Shane with those big, dark eyes, a massive grin on his face.

Shane was a weak man. He was going to do something he'd regret, he could feel it, oh God--

“Babadabada!” Eleanora insisted, smacking Shane's leg and thoroughly  _ saving his stupid ass _ .

“Oh, sweetheart, are you being ignored again?” Shane asked, picking her up and plopping her down in his lap. He kissed the side of her head. “What do we say to Uncle Ryan for our presents? Do we say  _ thank you _ ? Huh?”

Eleanora just reached over and grabbed Ryan's nose.

(She'd had a thing for noses, lately.)

“Okay, alright, it's getting late. Time for baby Eleanoras to go to bed. We've got a long flight tomorrow,” Shane said as Ryan carefully extracted her hand from his nose.

“All the way back to Schaumburg, huh? Is there gonna be a bigfoot holiday reunion?” Ryan asked. 

“Yeah, we plan on spending the whole day crushing people's heads with rocks, unless they're wearing a helmet.”

“Fuck you, dude.”

“It's a blast. Sometimes we have our old family friends the mothmen over, feast on the bones of our enemies. Real Midwestern hospitality. Real talk, though, I think my mom is more excited to see Eleanora than me.”

“I don’t blame her. Nora is  _ much  _ cuter.”

“If you insult me again I’m putting cheese all over our popcorn.”

Shane grinned as Ryan’s mouth snapped shut.

***

“Oh my goodness, there she is! Don’t you look precious!” Shane’s mom said as she opened the door, immediately grabbing Eleanora and spinning her around.

“Hey, Mom,” Shane said, grinning as he pulled the suitcases inside.

“Hello, baby. How was your flight?” Sherry asked, patting Shane’s cheek.

“She only cried for 30 minutes this time, so that’s an improvement,” Shane said. “Is Scott here yet?”

“Yes, he’s upstairs with Katherine. We were just waiting for you two, so whenever you’ve got all your stuff sat down, we’ll eat.”

“Do you mind holding Eleanora while I get all this,” Shane shook the bags in his hands, “sorted out?”

“Not at all,” Sherry said, smiling at Eleanora. “Ellie can have some quality time with Grandma.”

“ _ Eleanora _ .”

“Shane, dear, she’s going to have nicknames. You may as well accept it now.”

***

“So, how’s dad life treating you?” Scott asked, clapping Shane on the back. “Never thought you’d get there before me.”

“It’s… stressful. But I love Eleanora, and Ryan’s always around, so it’s getting… smoother,” Shane replied.

“How long have you and Bergara been together?” Scott asked. “Can’t have been very long, right? Was it before Ellie?”

“What are you talking about? Why does everyone--Ryan and I aren’t together, man. He’s just--we’re  _ friends _ ,” Shane insisted. “Do I like him? Yeah, obviously, who wouldn’t, he’s funny and smart and fucking ripped. But I’m not--I couldn’t--”

“Woah, man, calm down. I’m not--I just thought, y’know, because he was on the Christmas card, and he’s on your social media all the time,” Scott said, holding up his hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, I just… everyone has been asking me about it recently, and I…” Shane trailed off.

He didn’t know what to say.

“I get it,” Scott said. “You don’t want to risk it.”

“Yeah.”

“But you really like him, don’t you.”

“Duh.”

Shane saw Scott roll his eyes. “You know, I don’t know Ryan all that well, but from what I  _ do _ know, the guy seems pretty into you, too,” he said.

“Pssh, yeah, sure. Sixty percent of the time, I’m pretty sure he wants to murder me.”

“I think if you asked Katherine, she’d say she wants to murder me sixty percent of the time, too.”

“Not to, like, give you marriage advice, but that sounds kinda unhealthy, man,” Shane pointed out, and smiled when his brother laughed.

“Do whatever feels right to you, man,” Scott finally said, squeezing Shane’s shoulder. “I gotta go make sure Dad doesn’t burn the ham.”

Shane didn’t say anything as he watched his brother walk away.

_ Do whatever feels right _ .

If only Shane knew what the fuck that  _ was _ .

***

“Alright, everyone settle down, it’s time for gifts! Mark, could you start sorting and passing them out, please?” Sherry said, hoisting Eleanora up higher on her hip.

“Mom, I can take her,” Shane said. “Really, you don’t have to--”

“You hush. Let me have time with my granddaughter.”

“Ooookay then.”

Shane glanced over at his father, who grinned at him and shook his head fondly.

“Who’s first? Youngest to oldest? Oldest to youngest? Right to left?”

“How about we start with Ellie and go from there,” Mark said, pulling a shiny red from under the tree.

“Is everyone calling her things now? Am I the only one who respects my child’s name?” Shane asked.

No one answered.

“Has she opened presents before?” Sherry asked as the package was put in front of Eleanora.

“She opened her one from Ryan last night, but I don’t know if she remembers--”

Shane was interrupted by Eleanora promptly ripping the glittery paper and screeching in delight.

Shane quickly snatched up the gift bow and placed it carefully on the baby’s head as everyone around him laughed.

Shane was almost correct in his assumption about Eleanora getting a whole new wardrobe. They’d made it thus far living off of hand me downs and emergency trips to Walmart, but by the end of the evening, Eleanora had everything necessary to be a model for  _ Baby Gap _ .

“Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad,” Shane said, folding up and placing aside the fourth pair of leggings he’d unwrapped (Eleanora had gotten bored of the whole thing twenty minutes previous, and had taken to occupying herself by playing in a large box that once held Scott’s new juicer).

“No problem, baby,” Sherry said, rubbing Shane’s arm. “It’s our job to spoil our grandkids. Isn’t that right, Ellie? Tell your daddy that it’s grandma’s job to get you presents--”

“Dadadadada!” Eleanora interrupted loudly.

Shane couldn’t do anything but stare at her for a moment.

“Did she… Did she just call you ‘dada’?” Scott asked.

“I… maybe,” Shane said. “Y’know, she’s little, it might’ve just been baby nonsense--”

“Dadada!” Eleanora repeated, this time smacking Shane on the knee and bouncing up and down in her box as if to say,  _ yeah, I’m talking about you, dumbass. Look how cool my box is. _

“Holy shit,” Shane murmured before his face cracked open in a wide smile. “Holy  _ shit _ !”

“Shane Alexander Madej!” his mother scolded, but Shane didn’t pay attention, already scooping Eleanora up in his arms and spinning her around.

“Look at you, sweetheart! I’m so proud of you!” he gushed, kissing the top of her head.

“Was that her first word?” Katherine asked.

“Yes! She--she called me Dad!” Shane said, smiling down at Eleanora. “I’ve got to call Ryan!”

“Let’s finish up here first,” Mark said. “Your friend is probably in the middle of dinner.”

Shane bit his tongue for a moment before nodding and sitting back down, Eleanora in his lap.

“Way to not say a bad word,” Shane whispered in her ear. “Really saved my ass there, kid.”

Eleanora giggled and grinned up at him, almost like she was in on it.

Jesus Christ, Shane loved her.

***

_ and it wasn’t fuck? it was a normal word? _

**_Yeah. She called me dad, man!_ **

_ dude, that’s awesome! do you think i could get her to call me uncle ryan next? _

**_Maybe. Maybe I’m just her favorite._ **

_ home court advantage. _

**_Don’t hate the player, baby!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please tell me what you think!!!
> 
> if you wanna talk to me, find on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel!!!


	3. So This Is The Miracle That I've Been Dreaming Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Moment We've Been Waiting For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The end of this fic, but (hopefully) the beginning of something bigger!

The photo showed Shane sitting on his couch, Eleanora asleep on his chest in black overalls and a gold t-shirt.  _ Doctor Who _ was playing on the television. Obi was draped over Shane’s shoulders like a scarf, and one could just  _ barely _ make out Ryan’s reflection as he took the photo in the glass of a picture frame behind them.

The caption said,  _ the party never stops at the Madej household. happy new year! _

It got over a hundred thousand likes.

***

Shane’s first day back at work was…

_ Hectic _ , to say the least.

The daycare center he’d chosen was only five minutes away from the office, which proved to be a good thing because between finishing up Eleanora’s enrollment papers and trying to convince her to stop crying, Shane just barely made it to work in time.

“He returns!” Ryan said as Shane entered the room.

Shane bowed awkwardly as people clapped.

“Dude, you alright? You look--you like kinda like shit,” Ryan said as he handed Shane a large mug of tea (Earl Grey, with no sugar and a little milk, just how he liked it).

“You know, usually best-friendships don’t involve this many insults.”

“That’s the Ghoul Boy difference. Seriously though, you look like garbage and we have to film today. What’s up?”

Shane groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Eleanora woke up at four a.m. and refused to go back to sleep,” he explained, taking another long sip of his tea. “And the diaper this morning was… horrific. Honestly, Ryan, I don’t know how she does it. She’s, like, two feet long  _ maybe _ , and she weighs less than 20 pounds. Where does all the poop even  _ come from _ ?”

Ryan shrugged. “I dunno, man. Did she like her daycare?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s still crying.”

“I mean, she cries a lot. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“‘Don’t worry, Shane, your daughter is usually unhappy, so I’m sure one more thing won’t make  _ that _ much of a difference.’ Wow, Ryan, you’re really making me feel great about my parenting.”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Ryan said, shoving Shane, who glared at him as part of his drink sloshed out onto his hand. Ryan just grinned and began heading off in the direction of Ghoul HQ. “Finish that quick, we’ve got, like, three episodes to film.”

“I’m bringing this with me!”

“No food or drink on set!”

“Go fuck yourself, Bergara!”

 

Thank  _ God _ they’d been working on True Crime before Eleanora had happened. Shane didn’t think he’d be able to handle Supernatural right now, not to mention the fact that he was now pretty much stuck in the general LA area.

“Baby threw up all over your couch? All hail the Watcher,” Ryan said with a grin.

“We don’t--we don’t talk about that. I had to get the whole thing, like, deep cleaned, and there’s  _ still  _ a stain,” Shane told him.

Ryan wheezed. “No, but can--can you imagine Nora just with, like, a Bluetooth thing and she’s like, ‘Oh, now? You want me to vomit up mushy peas  _ now _ ? Alright, will--will do,’” he asked. “And then she just-- _ blergh _ !”

“My daughter isn’t part of the--of the  _ Watchers _ , Ryan! She’s a  _ baby _ ,” Shane pointed out.

“Maybe, maybe they start them out young. It’s like the X-Men or something.”

“Ryan…”

“It’s a possibility!”

“No, it’s not.”

“Can you  _ definitively  _ say that it’s not a possibility?”

“Yes, actually, because I’m  _ pretty sure _ I’d notice if my seven-month-old baby was part of an underground evil conspiracy,” Shane countered. “She can’t even really talk yet, Ryan. She just points and yells ‘no’.”

“It’s pretty cute,” Ryan told the camera.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Shane agreed.

“But anyway, this guy, he’s just--he’s casting a wide net and hoping something sticks…”

***

The first time Ryan slept over was an accident.

He’d given Shane and Eleanora a ride home after work and had decided to stay for the evening. They’d ordered pizza, popped popcorn, and, once Eleanora was in bed, pulled up Ridley Scott’s whole filmography.

It was a good night.

Such a good night, that neither of them noticed how late it was until after they’d finished  _ The Martian _ and it was approaching 12:30.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Ryan swore, grabbing his bag as he searched for his shoes. “I’ve got to get home, ah shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stay this late, and we’ve got work tomorrow--”

“Dude,” Shane interrupted. “Chill out, okay? You don’t have to--you don’t have to rush around and leave, y’know. You can stay the night. It’s no big deal.”

“Are you sure?” Ryan asked. “Like, I don’t want to intrude or anything--”

“Buddy, any possible intruding you could’ve done would’ve happened by now,” Shane told him. “Stay. I’ve still got those clothes you left here after Eleanora got sweet potatoes all over them, you can use my shower--hell, you can even build your little pillow wall and crash in my bed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you dumbass. If you really want to make it up to me, you can be the one who gets up when Eleanora starts crying at, like, two a.m.”

“Alright. Sounds, uh. Sounds good. I’ll be in the shower--I mean, if that’s cool with yo--”

“Ryan. You smell like popcorn salt, marinara, and BO. Go shower. I’ll take one in the morning,” Shane insisted.

Ryan just nodded, and Shane did his best to lock his emotions up in a little, tiny box and shove them away where his stupid brain wouldn’t think about them anymore.

(He failed.)

***

“Let’s take it over to Gram Town,” Shane said, scrolling through his phone. “This comes from  _ fuckyour _ \--” Shane wheezed, “ _ fuckyourchickenstrips _ on Instagram, it says, ‘ _ can we get an f in the chat for shane’s couch? also, maybe the fact that nora only says ‘no’ is a cover up for her secretly being one of the watcher’s goons. just a thought. #boogara #isupportnoramadejsxmendreams _ .’”

Shane had to take a minute to regain his composure.

“Now, I think--I think it’s obvious who chose this question--”

Ryan winked.

“But I’d like to start off by saying that if Eleanora was, in fact, an X-Man, she wouldn’t be a lame  _ Watcher goon _ . She’d be, like, Jean Grey or Storm or something, and any suggestion otherwise is, frankly, a deathly offense--”

“What, is this an affair of honor, now? You going to meet them at Weehawken at dawn?”

“Oh, absolutely. Come with pistols loaded, sir,” Shane said seriously.

Ryan looked like he was about to die laughing, and Shane had to take a second to make sure he himself didn’t completely lose it.

“Secondly,” he continued, “I don’t know what Ryan here has been telling you guys, but I do  _ not _ endorse the nicknaming my daughter, and you should all be expecting to hear from my lawyers very soon. Next!”

***

“This is absurd,” Shane said. “It is  _ March _ . She is  _ ten months old _ . There is  _ no reason _ we are at this beach, and honestly? This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous, Ryan, and I can’t believe you’ve talked me into this.”

“We--we’re not going to  _ swim _ , you idiot. We’re just going to enjoy a lovely spring afternoon--”

“Why even  _ go _ to the beach, if we’re not going to swim? Why not go to the park, or the zoo, or--”

“We’ve got a  _ picnic _ , we can collect  _ shells _ \--”

“Ryan, please admit this is dumb. Please say this is dumb so that we can just go to the aquarium like I said, instead of sitting out here in the  _ sand _ ,” Shane pleaded.

“Are you--are you Anakin now? Do you hate sand or something?” Ryan asked.

“Maybe! Maybe Eleanora is secretly Princess Leia--”

“ _ Now _ who’s being ridiculous--”

“Either way, sand is awful, and this is lame, and we should go to the aquarium so Eleanora can pet a shark.”

Ryan stared at him for a moment.

He only looked a  _ little _ silly, wearing a visor and sunglasses and a large Buzzfeed backpack along with his usual short-and-t-shirt combo.

“I think we should let Nora choose,” he finally said, his hands on his hips.

“Ryan, for the last time, she’s a  _ baby _ \--”

“Which do you wanna do, Nora? You wanna go to Dad’s gross, stinky aquarium, or stay on this beautiful, sunny beach with Uncle Ryan?”

Shane opened his mouth to again point out that this was, in fact,  _ stupid _ , when Eleanora started reaching for Ryan.

“Nyan!” she squealed, and Ryan blinked at Shane in surprise.

“Did she just--”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Shane agreed, staring down at his daughter, who was still making little grabby hands at Ryan. “Hey, sweetheart, do you know who that is? Can you tell me who that silly guy is?”

“Nyan! Nyan!” Eleanora repeated, smacking Shane in the chest.

“Oh--Okay, then,” Shane said, passing the squirming baby to Ryan, who looked like he was about to cry. “Here we go, here’s Uncle Ryan.”

“Holy shit, dude,” Ryan whispered as he stared at Eleanora. “Holy  _ shit _ ! Do you know what this means?”

“That now she’s going to be able to yell at  _ both _ of us when she wants something?”

“She picked me! We’re staying! Ha!”

“Ah, fuck.”

***

Eleanora's first birthday was a lively affair, to say the least. Ryan showed an hour early with the Captain Marvel birthday cake and the whole of Party City in the shopping bags slung over his arms.

“You're a lifesaver,” Shane said, shoving aside food in the fridge to make room for the cake. “If you put that stuff down over there, I've got to get the sausage balls out of the oven.”

“Did you end up getting a good headcount?” Ryan asked, pulling the paper plates and cups out of the bags.

“Yeah, I think,” Shane said. “You, me, Eleanora, Teej, Devon, Mark, Emory, Madelyn, and Kaden and their parents, and then your parents, Jake, and Jake's girlfriend.”

“Dude… your kid is more popular than you are,” Ryan teased. “I don't know if I bought enough plates.”

“I'm sure you did,” Shane assured him, pulling the sausage balls out of the oven and putting in the pan of jalapeno poppers. “Will you watch those while I get the guest of honor ready?”

“Sure, man,” Ryan said. “Where is the birthday girl? She's been underfoot all the time lately--”

“I got her down for a nap,” Shane interrupted. “Didn't want her to be grumpy during the party.”

“What, are you suddenly a wizard? We both know Nora doesn’t nap until two,” Ryan pointed out.

“A good magician never reveals his secrets. Now come here and make sure the cheese doesn’t explode this time, alright? It was a bitch to clean up last time,” Shane said, tossing Ryan the towel that was draped over his shoulder as he left the room. “Don’t burn my house down!”

 

Eleanora was, miraculously, still asleep when Shane entered the room, curled up in her crib, clinging to CiCi like her life depended upon it.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Shane said, bending over and scooping the little girl up in his arms. “Hey, baby girl, it’s time to wake up. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Eleanora grumbled in his arms, nuzzling her face against his chest. “No no no,” she mumbled, smacking his shoulder.

“Yes yes yes,” Shane countered. “C’mon, it’s not nap time anymore.” He placed her down on the changing table and opened the drawer, pulling out the little Captain Marvel outfit they’d gotten her. “Look, kiddo. Aren’t you gonna look so cute? You’re gonna be precious, nobody’s gonna know what hit ‘em.”

The look Eleanora gave him would’ve been positively  _ withering _ if she wasn’t one year old and the cutest thing Shane had ever seen in his life.

“Alright, okay, but you’ve still got to get dressed, kid. We’re having company over, we can’t have them thinking I let you lay around in old, nasty pajamas all day. It’s not a good look, baby girl.”

“Shane! Something’s beeping!” Ryan yelled from the kitchen, and Shane grinned as he saw Eleanora’s face light up.

“There’s almond bark in the microwave for strawberries, it’s probably that!” Shane shouted back.

“Nyan!” Eleanora insisted, wiggling around on the changing table.

“Yes, baby. Uncle Ryan’s here for your birthday. You don’t wanna be a mess for Uncle Ryan, right?”

Eleanora shrieked and clapped her hands.

“Okay then. Hold still, I can’t get you changed if you’re being a little squirmy worm,” Shane told her.

She didn’t listen, unsurprisingly, but at this point, Shane was a Changing An Excited Eleanora pro, and in three minutes, she had on a new diaper, the Captain Marvel outfit and a matching bow.

“Am I supposed to put this in the fridge?” Ryan asked, holding the bowl of chocolate as Shane entered the room, Nora on his hip.

“No, dipshit. We just melted it, we don’t want it to harden all over again. Just--put it on the counter,” Shane said, carefully placing Eleanora on the floor in the living room, where she immediately started crawling over to her toy chest.

“Your dad is so mean, Nora.”

“No!” Eleanora yelled, throwing a Tonka truck on the floor.

“Atta girl,” Shane said, reaching down and ruffling her hair before heading back into the kitchen and slinging a towel over his shoulder. “What’s left to do?”

“Well, if you wanna be in charge of food, I’ll put up the decorations.”

“Sounds good to me. Try not to fall off the ladder this time--”

“Would you  _ let that go _ ?”

“Never.”

***

“Alright, this next present is from… Uncle Ryan!” Shane said, turning the small, flat box over in his hands. “Let’s hope it’s not any more sports paraphernalia because he’s still one  _ thin ice _ from the time he tried to get you to wear a Chargers’ beanie.”

Everyone in the room laughed except for Ryan, who crossed his arms over his chest. “Hardy har, shut up and give the kid her present.”

Shane grinned at him and handed Eleanora the box.

At this point, she was an old hat at opening presents, and soon revealed the pair of sparkly black Minnie Mouse ears that were in the box.

“Wow,” Shane said. “That’s… that’s going to be really cute at Halloween! What do we say to Uncle Ryan, Eleanora?”

“Tanks!” Eleanora said dutifully while Ryan rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t  _ just _ get her Minnie ears, you doofus,” he said. Shane raised his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“Disneyland, dummy. We’re going to Disneyland next Sunday. The tickets are on my phone.”

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” Devon said. “That’s going to be so cute!”

“Ryan, you didn’t have to--”

“How many times am I going to have to say  _ I know _ before it sinks into that giant noggin of yours?” Ryan asked with a smile.

“Thank you, really.”

“It’s no biggie. Actually, I’m surprised we haven't gone already. I kinda felt like I’d been failing as an uncle.”

Everyone laughed again, but Shane noticed the conspiring looks shared between many of the adult partygoers.

“So it’s just going to be you three?” Teej asked. “The Ghoul Fam takes Disney?”

“We’re not the Ghoul Fam--”

“Yup!” Ryan interrupted. “I got fast passes, so we shouldn’t even have to wait in line--”

“Can Nora even go on rides at Disneyland?” Jake asked.

“Yeah! They’ve got, like the kiddie rides, and either me or the big guy will hold her. It’ll be a blast. We can even do the Haunted Mansion--”

“ _ No _ . She’s  _ not _ a ghoul baby--”

“She can wear her little boots--”

“I still can’t believe you got my daughter  _ ghost hunting boots _ \--”

“You  _ have _ to take pictures,” Devon insisted. “Oh my God.”

“I’m sure we’ll take pictures,” Shane promised, “if only to chronicle Ryan’s descent into madness as we ride  _ It’s A Small World _ forty-six times.”

***

Shane had officially gone crazy.

That was it. Only explanation.

It was the end of the line.

This would be the last the world would ever hear of Shane Alexander Madej or Eleanora Rose Austin because Shane was about to take his kid and go into hiding. He would become an Icelandic sheepherder or something. Something that was far, far away and would involve him never having to see Ryan  _ fucking  _ Bergara ever in his life, ever again.

Because Shane was a dumbass who was in love with his best friend, and was basically co-parenting his daughter with his best friend, and had fucked it all up by  _ kissing his best friend at Disneyland  _ and then _ running away _ .

“Shane!” Ryan shouted, and Shane felt his face grow hot as he continued to hide under some fake rocks.

Like he was some sort of awkward, cringey pre-teen.

“Shane, man, please, I know you’re around here somewhere, I’m not an idiot. Just come out and we can talk about this.”

Shane bit his lip.

He’d just be really,  _ really _ quiet, and then--

“Nyan!” Eleanora yelled, giggling as she clapped her hands.

_ Fuck _ .

Sure enough, a moment later Ryan was there, standing in front of Shane, wearing a pair of stupid mickey ears and a tank top that made him look  _ much  _ better than he had any right to, and could definitely be blamed for Shane’s complete loss of sanity.

“Hey, baby girl,” Ryan said with a little smile, and Shane felt his heart break.

God, he really had messed this up.

He was going to lose his best friend, and the person he was love with, and possibly his place on  _ Unsolved _ , if Ryan was really upset, and that was going to absolutely  _ suck balls _ , but Eleanora was going to lose her Uncle Ryan.

Which was…

Awful.

“I’m sorry,” Shane blurted out. “I’m sorry, I didn't--I shouldn’t have--I know you don’t, and you’re straight, and I understand if you want, like, space, or a new co-host or--or whatever, but  _ please _ \--you’ve got to stay around for Eleanora. Please.”

“Shane,” Ryan said, looking at him with something like pity in his eyes that made Shane feel absolutely sick. “Shane, I’m not--I’m not going to leave, you dumbass. I’m not mad or--or  _ upset _ or anything.”

“You’re not angry?” Shane asked, hoping he didn’t sound as utterly floored as he felt.

“No, dipshit. If you hadn’t  _ run away _ , I would’ve told you that. I would’ve told you that I’m not mad because I…”

There was a pause as Ryan seemed to steal his nerves. “Because I like you too. Romantically. I’m interested in you romantically. Or whatever.”

“Or whatever.”

“Yeah.”

Shane stared at him, his stupid, insane, ridiculous,  _ wonderful _ Ryan, and felt a smile break out on his face.

“This is gonna be weird because I’m holding a baby, but--”

Shane kissed him again before his courage could escape him.

Ryan stilled for a split second before leaning into the kiss, his arm wrapping around the hip that Eleanora wasn’t sitting on.

A moment later they broke apart as Eleanora started babbling about  _ something _ and whacking them both on the shoulders. “You,” Ryan said, poking her on the stomach, “are just as silly as your dad, you know that?”

“Hey!”

“It’s true!”

“Is not!”

“Shut up and kiss me, you big dummy.”

Shane was happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be part of a series, which is going to recount the Epic Tales of the Ghoul Fam.  
> I hope you guys stick around!
> 
> Tell me what you thought, and, as always, find me on Tumblr @allonsy-gabriel!

**Author's Note:**

> please, please, _please _tell me your thoughts. i've got more chapters in the works, so if you like this so far, tell me! it really does numbers for my motivation! thanks!__
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> also, if you want to talk to me Ever, find me on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel!  
> 


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